


A Little Too Different

by Self_Indulgent_TMNT



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Little Mermaid (1989)
Genre: Crack, F/M, I Don't Even Know, I REGRET NOTHING, I have not edited this, I regret everything, Jabba is a dick, One Night Stand, Ridiculous, Ursula is lonely and horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 17:17:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15539145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Self_Indulgent_TMNT/pseuds/Self_Indulgent_TMNT
Summary: When Jabba walked into her local bar (well he was wheeled in, he hadn’t done his own transport for years, all of the Star Wars baddies were so rich after all this time they could get pretty much everything) Ursula saw an opportunity where everyone else saw folds.So maybe he wasn’t the best-looking blob ever, but he was the right kind of shape to give them a cute couple silhouette and he was just ugly enough that maybe he had a good personality. Plus, he was famous.I made a joke to my friend about Jabba/Ursula, he thought it was funny, I joked I might write it. I had an hour. I wrote it. I am sorry that this exists but also I am not sorry. Please, please don't take this seriously





	A Little Too Different

They were different, that much was true of Ursula and Jabba. She had sass and a solid grasp of the English language, he had general meanness and an interpreter. She had great songs and the ability to teach young, naïve sea creatures about love, wishes etc. and he had the ability to feed people to a hideous beast, even more hideous than himself. She had curves, like any woman should, and he had… folds? I guess that’s the word. She had tentacles, he had more folds. It maybe wasn’t a match made in heaven, she definitely deserved more, someone whose genitalia weren’t hidden under like 5 flaps of blubber at least. But hey, Ursula had a bad rep after the whole ‘Disney villain’ thing, not the best publicity stunt ever. ‘It’ll get your face out there’ her agent had said, ‘you’ll be a household name, they’ll love you!’  
She had fired that agent. She was a household name, but most people called her fat and mean. No one wanted to be in a relationship with the fat Disney villain, they all wanted an evil queen or witch. Pfft, Ursula had tried that, one drunken mistake of a night with Cinderella’s stepmother had proved to her that the ‘hot’ villains were all selfish in bed. And anyway, she didn’t want a one-night stand where someone took their pleasure and left, she wanted a relationship, someone to do her bidding and be there for her always.  
And so when Jabba walked into her local bar (well he was wheeled in, he hadn’t done his own transport for years, all of the Star Wars baddies were so rich after all this time they could get pretty much everything) she saw an opportunity where everyone else saw folds.  
So maybe he wasn’t the best-looking blob ever, but he was the right kind of shape to give them a cute couple silhouette and he was just ugly enough that maybe he had a good personality. Plus, he was famous.  
She sauntered up to him, tentacles all swaying, a fresh layer of garish lipstick and some eyeshadow in a colour that didn’t match slapped on her face and a pickup line already on her tongue. Jabba saw her coming a mile off, saw the desperation behind the sass and knew what she was after. Jabba wanted none of that shit, but she moved too quickly, and his interpreter was new, still a little unsure what all of what he said meant, he couldn’t get wheeled away fast enough, she was already leaning against the bar beside him, eyeing up the drink he was being fed (Jabba didn’t hold up his own drinks, no, he had someone for that). “Hey, Jabba, right?” she asked, as if his face wasn’t all over the internet being compared to fat people, just like hers was. Maybe they weren’t that different after all.  
He grunted, something that even with the language barrier she could tell was a sort of half-hearted ‘yup’.  
“I’m Ursula”, she held out her hand, he lifted his slightly and she leant over and shook it.  
“Don’t suppose you can buy a girl a drink?”  
Jabba looked at his money-slave and vaguely nodded. Maybe if he gave her alcohol she’d leave.  
She didn’t leave, she stayed, rather unsubtly pointing out all the similarities between them, explaining how she admired him even though she clearly didn’t. She very obviously had no clue about Star Wars but tried to pretend she did.  
Jabba wanted no relationship with this woman and he definitely didn’t need casual sex from her, he had plenty of sexy, slim slaves in skimpy bikinis willing to climb inside him at a word, or less than a word.  
But Ursula wouldn’t be deterred, she kept him buying drinks for her and eventually he started to match her furious drinking pace. At some point those tentacles started to look real sexy, he imagined all of the things they could do. And who knew, maybe it would be nice to have a sexual partner who wasn’t as thin as a twig and who hadn’t been forcibly taken for once. Maybe a willing partner would be a better partner.  
He didn’t invite her back with him he simply let her follow.  
His slaves left him alone with her, apart from the interpreter, who needed to be there to ensure sufficient sexy talk was said and understood. Ursula didn’t really mind the voyeur in the room, she assumed that if her plan to be with this man (man? Blob? Who knew) for some time was to work she’d need to get used to the little rat-like beast constantly translating conversations with her lover.  
The sex was… I don’t know, was it even sex? She was wet, she had to be to make it work, she was a sea-based creature after all and to get any kind of sexual movement going she needed to be doused in at least 3 buckets of water, with regular top-ups. So there was that to contend with. So Ursula lay on the bed, sloshing around in a puddle of water, tentacles ready to cause all sorts of mischief as she listened to and obeyed the commands given to her via the interpreter, who was definitely enjoying watching this FAR too much. Jabba slugged his way over to her (‘slugged’ being the verb chosen as the movement was rather slug like) and slithered straight on top of her.  
Now, usually during sex, Ursula spread her tentacles to allow entrance and then latched onto her partner to keep them where she liked them, only this time she couldn’t even FIND Jabba’s genitals. He was heavy, and unexpectedly dry, well until he got some of the water she was lying in on him at which point the slug comparisons continued as he became slimy and rather off-putting. The interpreter informed Ursula, who was swiftly losing the effects of the alcohol in her blood, that Jabba commanded she wriggled her tentacles to please her ‘lord’ as he insisted on being called now. Ursula sighed, which Jabba took as a sign of pleasure but was really just frustration. She did as she was bid, although it didn’t take long for Jabba to moan, which she assumed was just him speaking as it sounded like most of his words anyway, but which the interpreter informed her was him, ahem, ‘finishing’.  
Ursula sighed again, again the sound was taken as pleasure, and she dragged herself out from underneath Jabba. She accepted the towels offered, dried off and slipped away, spirit damaged by yet another disappointing sexual encounter. He clearly wanted no relationship, he just wanted her tentacles.  
Maybe she’d just have to buy another vibrator.


End file.
